Teach
Your Children Well
"Teach
your Children Well" was the original title of Keyboard magazine's
January 1993 Guest Editorial "Blood on the Battlefield of
Music Education."
I recently
had the opportunity to observe a high school music class somewhere
in southern Maine. The day's morsel was a music history filmstrip
whose educational value roughly equaled that of a Gilligan's
Island rerun. While all of the information in the film's soundtrack
was technically correct, it was packaged such that it only really
made sense if one were already familiar with the material-and
students are generally not-that's why they're students. The visuals
were badly chosen; often misleading, sometimes completely irrelevant.
During a Gregorian Chant, for example, there were shots of the
ocean, rippled sand, and a starfish-fine for a relaxation video,
but here serving only to distract. The students' smirks and obviously
wandering attention made it clear to me that the meditative majesty
of the chant was lost on the majority of them. Furthermore, throughout
the film, the soundtrack's explanations sometimes addressed-superficially-"what"
and "how", but never even remotely "so what"
or "why significant". And "why significant"
is the most important question I can think of when trying to
breach the chasm of centuries. Amplifying comments from an insightful
teacher could have filled the gap, but the teacher's comments
only served further to fray the filmstrip's already tenuous thread.
Even as a casual observer, it was clear to me that the connection
wasn't being made. The teacher did not seem to notice-or if he
did, he did not seem troubled. I was, though. During a Bach fugue,
a trap set (the drum set used in jazz and rock) was regrettably
one of the images vying for the students' attention. Neither
the teacher nor the soundtrack mentioned that the trap set had
nothing whatsoever to do with the music being played, nor was
any meaningful explanation of fugue offered. Ugh.
Maybe this
class was a rare exception, although I doubt it. If it indeed
was not, Mr. Music Teacher, do yourself and the students a favor:
burn that film, and give some concentrated thought as to how
to introduce students to music. We owe it to our students to
help them understand why great music is great; merely telling
them that it is so does not serve to open any initially closed
doors.
The time
has come for us music teachers to bring renewed creativity and
sense of purpose to our work. Western music history is marching
on and the seam between music's venerated composers and its vernacular
hitmakers has split open beyond the point of being a rift-it's
now a chasm. Music educators are faced with a crisis which we
can choose to face or ignore: how do we bridge this chasm for
our students, or perhaps more appropriately, how do we make it
more likely for them to want to bridge this gap themselves? I
question whether old doorways into music appreciation and instrumental
instruction are not hanging on rusty hinges which barely squeak
open. We as educators are on the inside of a figurative room
of understanding. We must invite our students in from where they
stand. This is not just a question of starting at the beginning,
but a question of style of invitation. If "Hot Cross Buns"
was indeed ever hot, which I doubt, it isn't likely still to
be to teenage ears used to Phil Collins and Nirvana. I'd wager
that to the majority of teenagers, Bach is "museum music",
and makes them want to "hurl"- or at least catch some
z's.
As I see
it, we have two choices as to how to demummify the ones with
wigs: we can step into the museum with our students and turn
on the lights and open the windows, or we can invite the museum
exhibits out to stand next to today's music makers. In class
we could listen to a song by (contemporary alternative group)
Primus and a movement from a Bartok String Quartet, and then
discuss the similarities and differences. Or play a movement
of Mozart and ask the students' impressions. If they're indifferent,
could it have anything to do with the lack of distorted guitars,
or of percussion, especially a trap set, or the use of composition
techniques and forms which are new to them? For a class discussion
on texture in music, an Enya song could be contrasted with one
by Megadeth and parts of Prokofiev's Classical Symphony, for
example. For a discussion of harmony, a chordless rap piece or
a raga could be contrasted with a Satie Gymnopedie or something
by Schoenberg. What about a teacher led in-class dissection of
a highly produced pop song's form and orchestration? For gone
are the days when an average person could identify the source
of the sounds in a popular song, for much of today's popular
music is produced by electronic means undreamed of by the majority
of its listeners. Is it live or sampled? Multi-tracked or chorused?
Just exactly how do rap artists get that stuttering vocal sound,
or that d-e-e-p bass hit on beats one and three? How can there
be two (or three) Stevies singing at once on an average Stevie
Wonder song? Why do those thrash metal singers sound like they're
fifteen feet tall and from hell? How does a synthesizer work?
Can we realistically expect students to understand the inner
workings of music written two or three hundred years ago when
they are unable to hear what is going on in the music they hear
every day? The list of questions goes on, or at least, it should.
If, as a music teacher, these questions are of no concern to
you; if you believe that they are not worthy of being addressed,
then to me, that is cause for concern.
We must
balance reverence of the classics with an awareness of the colloquial.
We must be prepared to explain why the classics are classics,
for although "why" may be clear to us as teachers,
to the uninitiated, it ain't necessarily so. We must round out
today's music education. There are too many pianists who can
spin out Debussy note for note, but are unable to peck out a
modest "Happy Birthday" at a party or play even a very
basic twelve bar blues. Too many teachers approach every student
of any age as if s/he were being groomed for the conservatory.
Clearly, we who teach privately must be flexible.
We must
embrace technology selectively, and examine and evaluate our
teaching aids and methods critically. In another junior high
music class I visited, each student spent part of a term "designing
a musical instrument". Unfortunately, they were actually
manipulating shapes on a computer screen to create pictures of
musical instrumentoids of fact or fancy. "Designing musical
instruments" is to music education as studying grammar is
to preparing for the Boston Marathon. It's as effective as using
a rubber duck to drive nails. "Computer-Aided Musical Instrument
Design" belongs in computer literacy class, not music class.
Rulers-on-the-wrists teachers belong only in the bad memories
of older adults. Filmstrips such as the one I saw belong in the
trash can. Teachers who show them without significant embellishment
and spirited explanation belong on an assembly line, not in the
classroom.
For some
teachers, "the way it's been taught for years" equals
"the way I'll teach for years." That's one equation
we must help to change if we are indeed to teach our children
well.
-by Ed
Roseman